The Fury of a Patient Man
by Pi-dantic
Summary: For DapperDoom. Ultra Magnus tries really hard not to start a fight with the scumbag who hurt his boyfriend. Warnings: mild swearing, mentioned past abuse, mild violence, implication of prejudice, Prowl being a particularly horrible person…(Also note that Chase is only referenced to and does not appear in the story...yet.) (Part of the Ripping Wings Off Butterflies series.)


It hadn't been the best of cycles to begin with. Paperwork rarely put Ultra Magnus in a bad mood; _re-doing_ paperwork, on the other hand, due to _negligence_...well it didn't exactly brighten his morning. Re-doing paperwork that their human allies had assured them they had taken care of (Ultra Magnus was quickly learning "taken care of" meant something much different to humans, particularly human politicians and bureaucrats; it seemed to have a similarity to the definition Rodimus enjoyed affixing to that phrase) frustrated him considerably moreso. That was on top of organizing meetings and advising on command decisions and strategies and keeping track of the reports that were in constant need of updating, all which he had scheduled this cycle...and that was if no situations of a dire nature arose. Frankly he had time for nothing. Which would have been just as fine if he didn't have _plans..._

Ultra Magnus sighed. He didn't enjoy canceling anything; canceling on Chase was almost physically painful. Chase would try to hide his disappointment and he wasn't particularly good at it. Though both he and Magnus obviously understood the matters at hand, it was an extremely undesirable outcome and something Magnus avoided at all costs if he could help it. Having to call Chase over the video comm. and hear his slightly dejected sigh and watch his gaze briefly fall to the floor always drove a sharp pang of guilt through Magnus's spark.

And yet, Magnus almost wished that was the end of it. Because a souring day was about to turn even more bitter still. Magnus organized reports and plans, but he technically wasn't in charge of them. That honor went to their chief strategist...a mech he wanted to strangle every time he laid optics on him.

 _Prowl._

Just the thought of him made his temper, a temper some bots, including Magnus himself, sometimes forgot he had, _seethe._

He'd petitioned several times for the "officer"'s court martial. He knew Optimus was busy and, more to the point, shorthanded, and that Prowl was excellent at his job, perhaps the very best. He knew their ranks were thinning by the cycle. The fact that such a talented and vital asset had survived thus far when so many had fallen and was now readily available for consultation was nothing short of a miracle. Magnus knew it wasn't fair to the already put-upon and weary (and, to put it bluntly, guilt-ridden) Prime for him to distract him with and pester him about these matters. He knew Prowl's contributions (at least until the war was over) unfortunately far out-weighed his actions, despicable and disgusting they may have been. Magnus knew it was neither proper nor rational to let personal matters get involved in this.

He continued to petition anyway.

Because Prowl was scum, scum he didn't want anywhere near the decent soldiers and officers he served with. Scum he didn't want anywhere but behind bars...well, honestly, he wanted far worse for the bastard, but...

Picturing Prowl rotting in a hole for the remainder of the war and then some was enough for Magnus to continue petitioning.

But for now, in the realm of managerial duties, he deferred to Prowl and there was little he could do about it. He had previously kept their interactions curt and concise, determined to waste not one nano-klik of his time with that... _filth_. It had been much easier when they had communicated primarily by com-link and video interface. Prowl often insisted now they meet in person, theoretically so that the exchange of information was more efficient. Magnus had his suspicious about his true motivation.

Prowl tended to provoke people, even those not easily provoked. Whether it was purposeful for sadistic reasons or some other self-serving agenda, or simply due to his surly and unpleasant nature and entirely unintentional, it was difficult to say (though Magnus highly doubted the latter). In other words, Prowl oozed confrontation and underhanded passive-aggression on good cycles, and even then only to those he had at least some margins of respect and patience for. Magnus was one of the "fortunate" few in that category. Prowl treated those he had power over far, far worse.

Magnus' thoughts turned to what Prowl had done to Chase and he had to pause in the hall to quell the shake in his frame.

The increased contact, both in length of time and in physical presence, had caused Magnus' manner towards him to turn from brief and efficient with a hint of frost, to something very nearly approaching outright venom. When they were in the same room, he in-vented the same air, his EM field brushed Prowl's, however tightly drawn in it was. Sometimes his servo sometimes came in contact with Prowl's as he passed the file to him. The very thought made Magnus's tanks churn. However, though his behavior towards the strategist had become more clipped and harsh, it continually, maddeningly, remained respectful.

Magnus crossed the hall and stopped just outside the meeting room. He was venting far too rapidly. He glanced down at his right servo, tightened so viciously around the datapad he was holding that fissure lines were beginning to form on its surface. The servo shook violently.

He paused for a moment to in-vented, relaxing his hold on the datapad. Anger would not serve him now. Level-headed efficiency, that was what was required. Yes, yes...Justice would prevail here…he would be damned well certain of it...

But for the time being, he needed to do the rest of his job. And at the moment, that involved civility towards Prowl. Even though he was a slimy bastard that deserved to be force-fed scraplets.

Ultra Magnus compelled himself to in-vent until the shake in his frame left...or diminished to the point that he could control and conceal it at least. Then he straightened his back struts, pushed open the door, and marched into the conference room.

The conference room was rather pointless-they didn't have enough commanding officers (or officers and soliders in general) to require such an area, especially one so massive. Even if combined with a large amount of human delegates, they would all easily fit in a smaller location.

In Ultra Magnus's optics, it was nothing but a large expanse of empty, useless, wasted space. A parallel could be drawn between it and its current long-time occupant.

He never knew exactly what Prowl spent his time doing in this room. On every occasion that Ultra Magnus had entered the conference room, Prowl was standing in the exact same position and pose: staring at the wall, arms folded behind his back, completely motionless and silent.

Perhaps he was thinking up of new ways to emotionally destroy earnest, talented young mechs. It did seem to be a hobby of his.

Magnus forced himself to cycle his vents a couple more times before shutting the door and approaching the strategist.

The exchange that took place was nearly identical to the one before it. Magnus would say no more than was needed, Prowl would look over the datapad, muse aloud but speak nothing that couldn't be simply ignored or redirected to the task at hand, a scathing remark or two might be traded if one or both of them was in a particularly short temperament...and then Magnus would turn around and walk away, rid of the vile being for another few cycles, a decacycle or two if he was fortunate. Simple, quick, efficient. He could get this done without incident.

"Lieutenant." Magnus said.

Prowl didn't turn to greet him. "Commander."

Magnus stifled a sigh. He did manage, however, to keep his expression and body language from changing, and cross the room.

"Here are the reports." He said, standing adjacent to Prowl and handing him the datapad.

Prowl didn't take it for an excruciatingly long moment. He managed to retrieve it from Magnus's servo, however, before he was able to draw attention to the strategist's hesitation.

Typical Prowl.

The black and white mech looked over the reports, muttering to himself as he did so. He liked to do that before Ultra Magnus left, "just in case".

"As I have told you before." Magnus said, trying to keep the bite from his tone. "Everything is in order. If it is not, you may notify me at a later time. Now, if you will excuse me..."

Prowl held out a servo, index digit extended. "This is precautionary and saves time. It'll only take a few more nano-kliks..."

Ultra Magnus nodded. He ground his denta, but stopped to avoid making noise.

Prowl paused, scrolling back to something. This action meant this process would be prolonged.

Ultra Magnus's digits twitched at his sides.

Prowl halted, reading something over again. "There's no mention of the enemy patrols sighted last week near the secondary energon deposits."

"I omitted the sighting from the report."

Prowl looked up at Magnus, optic ridge raising. "Care to explain?"

"It was disproven as faulty intelligence."

"Maybe I should be the judge of that." Prowl muttered, returning to his overview. "Why wasn't I informed?"

"The discrediting took place earlier this cycle." Magnus said, only barely able to keep the tremor of exasperation from his voice. "It is mentioned later in the report."

Prowl scrolled downward. "Ah, I see..."

Magnus fought back another sigh. "I have other matters to attend to." And with that, he bowed his helm and turned to leave.

"I'm _sure you do_..." Prowl muttered, still reading.

Magnus paused, but immediately continued on his way. His patience for Prowl was quickly waning. In fact, he was long tired of being in the same general vicinity as the strategist.

"Commander," Prowl said.

Magnus stopped. His servos turned to fists, then relaxed. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Maybe you should take care not to rush into decisions in the future." Prowl said, continuing not to make optic contact. "After all, quick decisions, of _any_ nature, are seldom rational and tend to end unpleasantly."

Magnus felt his upper lip plates twisting and forced them to return to a neutral state. "Are you informing me how to preform my duties, Lieutenant?"

"No." Prowl said evenly. "Simply advising you. Some situations are so incredibly...fragile…" Magnus didn't see a smirk on Prowl's face, but he could hear one in his tone. " ...and I wouldn't want you to suffer any humiliation later on. That's all."

Magnus's servos curled into fists again. He didn't bother undoing them.

"Speak plainly, Lieutenant." Magnus said.

Prowllooked up. His optics were narrowed. "I hope you're not still blaming me for the weaknesses of others."

"The agent of law enforcement to which you are referring is anything but weak." Magnus managed to keep his voice mostly even. Mostly.

"Evidentially, this isn't quite the case, is it?"

Magnus closed the distance between them. He was almost twice the size of Prowl, and far stronger and better armed. If only those facts had any real meaning here.

"What you did has nothing to do with _his_ weakness and everything to do with _your own_." Magnus growled.

" _It's not my fault he couldn't take it_." Prowl hissed, door wings flaring.

"He never should have had to!" Magnus snapped. "Your actions were out of line and nothing short of _repulsive_!"

Prowl's denta were bared. Magnus was looming over him, centimeters from his frame, but his instinct was certainly not to back down. His plating bristled and he sub-spaced the datapad. "I'm not going to try and justify myself to _you_. Optimus Prime-"

"...Should have thrown you into a cell a _long time ago_!" Magnus could feel his entire frame shake and his rudimentary battle systems online. Never had the temptation to beat this disgusting wretch into a pulp been so potent.

Prowl leaned in as close as he could manage. "But he _didn't_." he spat. "He _needs_ me, he needs my expertise. It doesn't really matter what you think."

Magnus cycled his vents heavily. He knew if he didn't leave, he might do something he would regret. So, with a labored ex-vent, he calmed himself. He scowled at Prowl. "Do not consider this matter finished. As long as I function, I will see justice served." He turned to leave.

"Optimus Prime seems to think the matter's finished." Prowl said. "It probably helps that he doesn't have the _weakling_ in his _berth_..."

Magnus whirled around. "HOW _DARE_ YOU!" He was upon Prowl in a moment. "YOU HAVE _NO RIGHT_ -"

"What _matters_ ," Prowl snarled. "Is if I _am_ right, and you know that I _am_!" His face was twisted with wrath and disdain. "Maybe if you weren't _fragging_ that miserable excuse for a Cybertronian, you'd realize just how sickeningly _pathetic_ he is! I was doing the worthless little glitch a _favor-"_

Ultra Magnus' fist collided with Prowl's jaw, sending him flying into the ridiculously over-sized conference room table. He immediately regretted it. He also somehow regretted not doing it much, much sooner.


End file.
